


Vermilion

by dismaltemperament



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, M/M, My Chemical Romance References, Party, agatha is just stuck in her goth phase, background willden, conan gray is a homie, dont come @ me for the jokes abt him, it isn't mentioned but yara is trans, the original had so many pop culture refs but i just had to cut them out, uhhhhh basically just agatha being soft for her gf and Done with her friends' shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24199564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismaltemperament/pseuds/dismaltemperament
Summary: Agatha gets dragged to a party and vows not to have a good time. She sorta kinda fails at that, though.rather: In which Beatrix crashes her ex's party, Nicola realizes Sophie is cute(???) and does something about it, Hort and Ravan should never be in charge of the music, the truth about Hester's exes comes out, Tedros didn't put his half-brother on the guest list but Japeth shows up anyway, and Agatha just wants to kiss her girlfriend.
Relationships: Agatha/Hester (The School for Good and Evil), Beatrix/Kiko (The School for Good and Evil), Chaddick/Yara (The School for Good and Evil), Hort/Ravan (The School for Good and Evil), Nicola/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38
Collections: SGE Fandom Big Bang





	Vermilion

**Author's Note:**

> It's been exactly two years since I first had an inkling of this idea, and I'm glad I got to exploit it through my Big Bang submission. Thanks to lana._.e for beta reading and all the artists on instagram and tumblr.
> 
> EDIT: I posted this a few weeks before _One True King_ 's release. Yes, I'm aware that there's a few inaccuracies because of this.

The night had started out just fine; Agatha, exhausted from school and work, slumped on the couch and leafing through the third book in her favorite fantasy series while listening to her late mother’s classic rock records. 

Then Sophie, her adoptive sister and unconventional best friend-slash-roommate, struts into the foyer wearing a gorgeous dress she definitely can’t afford and announces they’re going to a party.

Without taking her eyes off the page, Agatha says, “No.”

Sophie lets out a little groan, stamping her foot. “Come on! There’ll be _so_ much drama, especially after Beatrix and Chaddick’s nasty breakup. We _have_ to attend; it’s not optional. Everyone will be there.” 

“Oh, my two favorite things—drama and _people_ ,” Agatha snaps.

Sophie pouts. 

“Why can’t you go by yourself?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“I need a ride!”

21 years old and still doesn’t have her license. Agatha, of course, is the one suffering via her sister’s willing ignorance. 

“Call Hort or something.”

“You couldn’t pay me to get on the back of Hort’s death-mobile.”

Agatha has a sinking feeling she’ll be attending regardless of her strong disdain toward bad music, bad booze, and bad company, which will no doubt be the foundation of this party.

“I still don’t see why _I_ have to take you.”

Sophie throws her hands up. “ _Please_? Hester’s going.”

This grabs her attention.

“Hester wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat bro party.”

“They aren’t frat bros, Aggie, jeez, Tedros isn’t straight enough for that—”

Agatha isn’t listening anymore, scrolling through her phone until she finds Hester’s contact.

 **agatha** : _whyyyyy are you going to a tedros pendragon party_

 **hester** : _dot_

 **agatha** : _sophie’s making me go_

 **hester** : _wear smth cute for me, babe!_

Agatha snorts.

Sophie gives her a look. “What is it?”

“Fine, I’ll go.” She gets to her feet, suppressing a sigh. “But I _won’t_ like it.”

Sophie cheers, darting over to give Agatha a kiss on the cheek. Agatha swats her away, gagging at the stench of heavy perfume, but smiles to herself after she’s shut the door to her bedroom.

 **agatha** : _you can count on it, babe!_

* * *

So it’s technically Chaddick’s party—something stupid about him “taking back his manhood” after Beatrix dumped him—not that Agatha actually gives a shit.

She trails obediently behind Sophie into the house, already filled to the brim with tipsy, gyrating dancers. Some lousy pop-punk is blaring over the speakers, and Agatha wonders A) how long until a neighbor files a noise complaint, B) how Tedros and Chaddick are affording the place, considering Agatha has a higher paying job than both of them combined and can only manage a small complex apartment with Sophie, and C) since when have Tedros and Chaddick been fans of Sleeping With Sirens?

But student loans and Kellin Quinn’s leggero tenor vocal range aside, Sophie has a revolving door of friends, which means Agatha can never keep up with who she does or does not want to be seen with. She watches with a speck of awe as Sophie marches forward, sending heated glares in the direction of Kiko and Dot, who are seated at the kitchenette.

Okay, seriously? Agatha actually likes them, and not just because she tutored Kiko for English last year and feels kind of bad for her. She should probably talk to Sophie about that.

And another example of Sophie’s chaotic friend agenda: Agatha hadn’t even noticed Nicola walking in their direction until Sophie locks arms with and spins her around to face them.

“Nicola, darling! I was hoping I’d catch you here,” Sophie says over the music.

Nicola, who seems just as confused as Agatha feels, gives her a querying look, and she shrugs in response. Like she said, she had no idea Sophie and Nicola were suddenly best buds.

“Uhm… hi?” Nicola says.

“Well!” Sophie either can’t sense the tension or honestly doesn’t care. “Nic and I have things to discuss, Aggie. We’ll be seeing you!”

“We do?” Nicola mumbles just before Sophie drags her away.

Agatha chuckles to herself, starting in the direction of the kitchenette. Maybe Sophie will finally get her head out of her ass and get her smog on with Nicola.

“Did I do something to upset her, or…?” Kiko asks as soon as Agatha has made it over. She and Dot were perched on one of the counters, sipping from plastic cups.

“Don’t worry about it.” She leans against the table. “Sophie’s probably just making bad with all of Beatrix’s friends to get in Chaddick’s good graces after that whole ' _throwing his own birthday cake at him'_ thing last semester.”

Kiko nods. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but Beatrix, Reena, and Millicent are supposed to crash this place any minute now.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

She gets a good look at the two girls. Both are dressed up, and although Agatha doesn't understand the purpose of dolling up for what is debatebly the worst form of social event in existence (she’s wearing black skinny jeans and a long-sleeve black and white striped shirt underneath a band tee, not that anyone’s asking), she can appreciate the fact that they look very nice. 

She realizes that neither has turned to face her at any point in the conversation, instead zeroing in on something in the distance.

“What are we looking at?” Agatha questions, scouring the living room.

“Yara,” Dot replies breezily with a little smirk. “Chaddick hasn’t taken his eyes off her since she walked in an hour ago.”

Agatha finds the pair standing against the far back wall, a distance from the rest of the party, which is honestly the last place she would expect to see Chaddick. They’re talking animatedly about something, standing awfully close and, oh, did he just take her hand?

Yes, he did. Now they’ve turned their respective shades of scarlet, smiling sheepishly at one another. Hmm. Cute.

“That’s gonna be a problem when Beatrix shows up, isn’t it?”

Dot shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. She dumped him, after all.”

Agatha can’t bring herself to care, although it might make for some entertaining drama later. To Dot, she says, “Do you by any chance know where _my_ girlfriend is?”

“Right here,” a voice chimes in from behind, startling Agatha. She whips around and there’s Hester, on the other end of the counter, pulling herself onto it. She stands and walks over to their end of the counter, dodging the tiny glass stove, and plops back down on the ground next to Agatha. 

Agatha grins. “Hey, babe.”

Kiko, who’s always been a bit cautious of the demon tattoo and multiple piercing on Agatha’s girlfriend, gives her a disgruntled look, while Dot appears vaguely amused.

Hester squeezes out of the already-tight spot, taking one of Agatha’s hands to pull her forward. She looks Agatha up-and-down, smirking.

“I said wear something _cute_ , not _smoking hot_.”

“Oh, shut up,” Agatha mumbles as she wraps her arms around her. “Sophie did the eyeliner.”

“Remind me to thank her,” Hester mutters into the nape of her neck.

They stand like that for a few seconds, tangled in each other and rocking back and forth softly. It’d been a hot minute since Agatha’s seen her girlfriend—they both have ridiculous workloads on top of their college classes, and throw in their opposing sleep schedules due to sporadic hours, it feels like Hester rarely has time for her anymore. But she knows how serious Hester is about going to law school—anyone in that field is bound to be serious, but Hester has a special sort of determination for what she does—and if it means only seeing her over FaceTime a couple times a week, so be it. She lives for the quiet moments like these, the ones that separate the two of them from everyone else in the world.

“I hate to interrupt,” snaps a voice that sincerely sounds like it doesn’t care about interrupting at all, “but are we gonna do this thing, or…?”

Hester steps away from Agatha, their hands still clasped, and she turns to Anadil, who’s watching them with a bored, mildly inconvenienced expression. 

Agatha, Hester, and Anadil have been a pack since high school, and Anadil is completely over their romantic couple shit. Which is fair, considering she witnesses more of it than any of their other friends, even if she can sometimes be a dick about it.

“Right, yeah…” Hester trails off, and Agatha can tell she’s already a million miles away from them.

“Gonna do what?” Agatha asks, failing to hide the bitterness in her tone.

“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ll only be a minute.” 

Hester gives Agatha a quick peck on the lips, and then she’s gone.

“That’s rough,” Dot says. Before Agatha came along, Dot was the one third-wheeling Hester and Anadil’s antics. Nowadays she hangs more with Kiko’s crowd, but she’ll always have that special bond with them that Agatha doesn’t get.

“Eh, it’s fine,” Agatha says, more so for her own benefit rather than Dot’s, as she hops onto the counter top. She surveys the room from her new vantage point, but Hester and Anadil are already long gone. 

The two go way back, before Agatha and before Dot, all the way to elementary. Hester’s mother and Anadil’s grandmother had been close personal friends, so they spent most of their childhood together. Agatha doesn’t question what they have, and only sometimes lets her envy seep in. She knows things have always been mostly platonic between them; they tried dating their freshman year of high school, and that lasted about as long as Tedros and Agatha had. That is to say, it lasted approximately three days. She can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, though, when her girlfriend’s running off with other girls to do secretive things that don’t involve her. 

She sighs, leans forward on her knees, and wishes she’d brought that book with her.

A catchy slow song starts playing, a bunch of pairs move to the makeshift dance floor, and Agatha totally isn’t thinking about how her and Hester should be one of those couples. She nods her head absently in time with the music.

Kiko and Dot start blabbing about couples they pick out from the crowd, and Agatha seethes silently. She takes out her phone and opens Instagram (first post on her feed is Sophie posing with a winded Nicola), but something in the corner of her vision snatches her attention away. 

Three figures in black stalk over to the kitchenette. They each have slightly feminine builds, although the bodysuits are bulky, cheap, and cover their faces, so it’s impossible to make out any defining characteristics. Kiko and Dot stop talking, exchange looks, and Agatha wonders, indistinctly, if someone’s finally sent an assassin to finish her off.

The tallest of the trio, now shrouded in the shadows of the kitchenette, rips off their mask, revealing herself to be Beatrix. She scratches at her undercut and smirks as Kiko and Dot exclaim delightedly. The other two disguised figures crowd around them, and sure enough, it’s Reena and Millicent under the masks.

“Is anyone gonna tell me why you’re dressed like historically inaccurate ninjas, or…?”

Beatrix’s gaze flickers to Agatha like she’s just noticing her there. She gives Agatha a _look_ , and Agatha’s viciously reminded of all the years they spent tormenting one another in high school. Something about them clashed horribly—like Hatfield and McCoy-type-clashing—and she knows from firsthand experience that Beatrix can be a real bitch when she wants to be. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Beatrix says. Even though she’s the one in a clearance Party City costume, Agatha feels like the stupid one. “I’m crashing my ex-boyfriend’s party.”

The three newcomers smoothly pull off the rest of their dark clothing. Millicent’s wearing a cute miniskirt and matching peplum shirt (a term Agatha only knows due to the extensive amount of time she spends around Sophie), Reena’s in a fuchsia jumpsuit, and Beatrix…

Agatha does a double take. 

Beatrix is wearing the same tanky, knee-length red dress as Sophie. Only difference is the denim jacket she unties from around her waist and slides onto her shoulders.

That is definitely, without a doubt, going to be a problem in the future, and Agatha prays to God she isn’t there to witness the epic meltdown.

“So what’d I miss?” Beatrix asks Kiko, discarding her black clothing.

“Not much. Yara and Chaddick are hooking up, I think?”

“Oh yeah! Saw them on my way in. Super cute.” Reena nods approvingly as she one-overs the dance floor, where couples are beginning to disperse as the song playing over the speakers harshly switches from slow and romantic to fast and angry.

Beatrix, seemingly unphased by these comments, pulls out her phone from a pocket in the jacket, taps a few times, then turns and says to Millicent, “All clear.”

Agatha can’t help but be intrigued. She’s trying not to hyperfixate on her misplaced girlfriend right now, so she speaks up. “Does that not bother you?”

Beatrix blinks up at her, a knowing smile tugging at the side of her lips. “Does what?”

“Your ex-boyfriend and one of the best-looking girls we know.”

Beatrix snorts like Agatha’s just cracked the joke of the century. “Oh, please. I’m _so_ over Chaddick.”

“Then why’re you…?”

“Why am I crashing his party?” She full-on grins. “What else am I gonna do on a Friday night?”

Okay, then. Maybe she has a point, but Agatha doesn’t really have the mental capacity to psychoanalyze it at the moment. She slumps against the wall, signaling this conversation is over. Beatrix goes back to blabbing with the other four girls, who hang on her every word, and Agatha fumbles with her phone, pretending to idly scroll though her Insta feed when in reality, she’s fighting down the feelings of insecurity and desperation that are threatening to arise. She wishes she were with Hester. She wishes she were better friends with Kiko and Dot and the rest of these girls. She wishes—

“ _You were with your friends, partying / When the alcohol kicked in…”_

Ugh.

She wishes the goddamn D.J. would get a grip. Maybe if it’s someone she knows, she can sweet talk (read: threaten) them into playing something more her tastes to get this party properly started. You know, just for funsies. 

As Agatha’s casually pretending to not know every lyric to this song, Beatrix has taken Kiko’s hand and is asking her to dance. A blush dusts the smaller girl’s cheeks as she hops off the counter, and, whoah, when did that happen? She asks Dot as much, who shrugs in response, but the way she’s smiling implies she knows more than she’s letting on.

As soon as they're gone, Reena says, “That’s our cue, Millie.”

“Cue for what?” Dot asks.

Millicent grins wildly. “We’re going to spike the punch!”

“And then we’re going to trash the bedrooms,” Reena adds.

Agatha doesn’t blink. “Of course you are.”

The two girls make off in the direction of the refreshments table, which just leaves Dot, who says, “I’m gonna go find Hester and Anadil.”

The mention of her girlfriend piques Agatha’s interest. “Count me in,” she says, starting after Dot.

Then, out of the blue, someone says, “Wait, Agatha—” and a hand lands on her arm, causing her to jump. She turns around and Nicola’s hazel eyes blink at her from the other side of the island.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Agatha asks as Nicola crawls over to her end of the counter. In the dim light, Agatha can see she’s wearing a brown flannel shirt and jeans. Good to know not everyone here is a freak about playing dress-up, at least.

“We’re friends, right, Agatha?”

“Sure.” She makes an act of peeking over her shoulder, and sure enough, Dot’s halfway across the room and is making no moves of stopping. Sigh. The things Agatha does for these people.

“I need advice.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, basically.” Nicola pauses like she’s carefully choosing her next words. “Sophie’s cute, right? I like her. I like Sophie.”

That’s not surprising in the slightest, and Agatha is still paying minimal attention. “That’s great, Nicola, but what do your newfound feelings for my sister have to do with me?” 

“Thing is, I think we’re fighting right now. Like, she was acting kinda bratty, and things got a little heated, and…” Nicola trails off like she’s making sure Agatha’s still listening. She is, unfortunately.

“Go on.”

“So I might’ve called her a bitch and now she’s _pissed_ —”

“Damn, you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” She means it jokingly—this whole situation would be a thousand times more hilarious if it weren’t interrupting Agatha’s quest to find her girlfriend—but Nicola frowns deeply.

“How can I fix this?”

“How should I know?”

“Aside from the fact that Sophie is your best friend, you’re also known for being extremely good with girls in general.”

“Since _when_?”

“You and Hester are the biggest power couple on campus.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Name a more iconic pair.”

“Uh—”

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Japeth and Aric?”

“Literally the only people that like Japeth and Aric are Japeth and Aric and maybe Rhian.”

“Fuck, I dunno. You and Sophie?”

“We’re not even a couple!”

“Okay, but you should be, and everyone knows it.”

“... _Everyone_?”

“Oh yeah. Kiko’s been shipping you since Dot’s birthday party, when y’all spent the entire time on the balcony making fun of Hort.”

“To be fair, he had just dumped me, and I was feeling salty—”

“Dude. You and Sophie are endgame. Don’t worry. You’ve got this in the bag.”

Nicola gives her a dubious look. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” Agatha smiles lightly and they hold each other’s gaze.

Then the third Conan Gray song in a row starts up and the moment is over. Agatha groans.

“Okay, this has been fun, but I really need to go find my girlfriend.” 

“Right. And I’m going to go find your sister.”

Agatha wrinkles her nose at the phrasing, but Nicola’s already taken off in the opposite direction. Agatha waits a moment, giving any other surprise visitors lurking around a chance to interrogate her, before she starts cutting through the dance floor. Couples are doing a swing dance, switching partners after a few bars—or at least they’re trying to, as some poor souls aren’t sober enough to successfully make it from person to person. She narrowly dodges Willam, who’s attempting in vain to keep his boyfriend from collapsing on the spot, and crashes into someone else entirely.

“Shit, my bad,” Agatha groans, stepping away and rubbing her skull, before she turns and realizes her victim is Sophie. “Never mind, I take that back.”

Sophie isn’t deterred by her sarcasm, taking both of her hands and spinning in rhythm with the music. Great. Not only is her head pounding, but now she’s also about to vomit all over Sophie’s pretty dress.

“Aggie, I need your help!” she shouts frantically over the music, although her grin is as wide as her eyes.

“Uhm—” Don’t barf now, Agatha, you and your dignity have so much to live for. “Make it quick, please.”

Sophie pulls her close and practically screams in her ear, “ _I like Nicola_!”

Agatha cringes and shoves her away, but Sophie doesn’t loosen her grip. Seriously, does she have a label on her back that says ' _Will give relationship advice for free_ ’, or something? Sophie hasn’t talked to her about girls in months, and now that she’s actually got somewhere to be, _what do you know._

“Are you only figuring this out now?” Agatha asks, and Sophie tilts her head to the side. “Just talk to her, Sophie. She likes you.”

“But how do you know?” Sophie shouts.

“It’s obvious!” 

Just then, another dancer barrels into them and takes Agatha’s place, sending her sprawling into someone else. She regains her composure, feeling a rash growing on her neck, but relaxes when she looks up (looks _down_ , technically, when she gets back to full height) and sees Tedros.

“Having fun?” he asks with an eyebrow raised. Thankfully, he takes the lead as they’re dancing and doesn’t swing her nearly as hard as Sophie does.

“That’s one way of putting it,” she sighs. 

Remember when Agatha mentioned dating Tedros for all of three days? Yeah, that was an experience. Things were awkward between them for a while afterwards, until they got shitfaced at Dot’s birthday party and confessed all their horrible insecurities and fears to each other. Now they’re cool.

Partners switch again, and Agatha nods at Tedros as she clasps hands with Kiko.

“Oh, hey, you’re glowing,” she says, and Kiko gives her a bashful smile. “So. You and Beatrix?”

“She’s just using me to make Chaddick jealous,” Kiko insists, but Agatha still has her thoughts—namely, Beatrix better not be using Kiko, not when she’s got the girl blushing like that. If she is, well… Beatrix has got another thing coming.

They switch partners once more, and just as Agatha’s starting to get sick of this, she ends up in the arms of the one and only Hester.

Finally. It’s about time.

“Babe—!” she starts, trying not to sound over-enthusiastic, but then Hester smirks and pulls her close and runs her hands down to her waist and _God_ that’s nice, what was she doing, why was she so mad before?

She runs her fingers through Hester’s pixie cut, pulls her forward and lets their faces graze as their bodies press against each other. She can feel every sharp edge on Hester, and in the moment she forgets they’re surrounded by the same people she did science fair projects and played jump rope with on the playground. She’s got Hester, and that’s all she really needs. The people around them are switching partners yet again, but neither girl pulls away.

“Missed me?” Hester murmurs, brushing a strand of her stark-black hair behind her ear.

“You have no idea,” Agatha says as she presses her lips to Hester’s.

Hester kisses her deeply, ferociously, and Agatha tugs on her hair, just a bit, because she knows she likes it. Hester makes a low, guttural noise without breaking the kiss, leaning up further into Agatha. Hester’s tall, but so is Agatha; she has three inches on her, easy, and her clumps only add to her height.

The song changes. It slows, becomes more subdued.

There’s a distant sound like snapping, but Agatha’s too tied up in her girlfriend to regard it. Then someone shouts Hester’s name, and, reluctantly, they both turn to see the chaos that’s arisen whilst they’ve been indisposed.

The dance floor’s mostly abandoned, save for Agatha, Hester, Bogden (still drunk off his ass), Willam (ever the good boyfriend) and Beatrix and Chaddick, who are at the center of everyone’s attention. The rest of the attendees have moved to the sidelines, trained on the squabble going on between the newly broken up couple.

“What could you possibly want from me?” cries Chaddick, standing his ground as Beatrix crosses her arms with a grin. “I’ve moved on, Bea! We’re done. I’m over you.”

“Oh, I can tell,” she says, shooting a little wave at Yara, who had been quietly making her way toward the two before being publicly acknowledged. She stops, tenses up, and face-palms when everyone looks at her.

Chaddick turns to Agatha and Hester, and they take a sheepish step apart like they’ve been caught in the act. He says, “Come on, Agatha, back me up on this: Beatrix is so out of line.”

God, this is so embarrassing. Why can she never catch a break with these people?

“Sorry, do we know you?” Hester spits, earning a few laughs from the crowd. Agatha can’t help but grin. She and Chaddick are friends enough, but this whole situation is pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Beatrix takes a step forward. “You remember that time we made out, right, Hes? Give me some credit here. I’m just trying to enjoy this _fine_ establishment, but Chaddick is—”

“Wait,” Agatha interjects, face scrunching up. She whips around to face Hester. “You hooked up with _Beatrix_? When?”

There’s some gasps from their audience, and, Christ, do these people not have anything better to do? Chaddick glances between the three girls hastily, Beatrix’s grin shifts into a nasty sneer, and Hester raises a hand in protest.

“Listen,” Hester begins. “It was before we met, babe, and had I known she was going to be such an _asshole_ about it—” She sends Beatrix a heated glare. “—I would’ve never done it in the first place.”

Before Agatha really has a chance to react, Sophie darts into the disarray, screaming something about Beatrix being a no good two-timer and accusing her of having an unoriginal fashion sense. This seems to hit a sore spot with Beatrix, who starts shouting right back at her. Nicola dives in after Sophie, only to backpedal, wearing an expression like a deer caught in headlights. She and Chaddick exchange a look, scowl at each other, and then it’s practically World War III on the dance floor.

Someone taps Agatha on the shoulder, and she nearly bites their head off before realizing it's just Tedros. Hester doesn’t share her affinity for the boy, though, and gives him a death glare.

“Agatha. Sorry to distract from… _all this_ , but I need you for a second.” His eyes shift to Hester. “Alone.”

“Nuh-uh,” Hester spits, squaring her shoulders. “Where she goes, I follow, Prince Prettyface.

Tedros blinks at the nickname, then says, “No, like, I _really_ need Agatha—”

“It’s fine,” Agatha cuts in. “I’ll go.”

Hester gives her a horrified look. “With _him_? Right now?”

Agatha lets go of Hester and steps closer to Tedros. “I won’t be long.”

“What am I supposed to do, then?”

Agatha can feel resentment bubbling to the surface. Oh, _now_ she wants to spend time with Agatha? Well, tough. She’s got other friends, too, and after all, Hester’s got Beatrix if she’s that bored.

(Okay, so maybe she’s bitter. But Hester’s given her _so much_ shit over hooking up with Tedros and hadn’t even bothered mentioning swapping spit with Beatrix.)

“You can deal with _that_ if you’re feeling particularly bored.” Agatha nods to the W.W.F. boxing arena that is their friends.

Hester lets out an exasperated grunt before the sound of a phone chiming grabs her attention. She pulls out her phone, seemingly forgetting Agatha’s presence altogether. Agatha clenches her fist and stomps after Tedros as he leads her into a nearby room. She’ll deal with that situation later, because right now, she’s on the verge of exploding.

She shuts the door behind them and welcomes the silence. Then she turns around and sees they’re in a guest room. Fuck. She doesn’t like where this is going.

“Please don’t tell me this is a come on,” Agatha says. She might be marginally upset with Hester right now, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to leap into the arms of the nearest suitor.

Tedros gives her a befuddled look. “What—?” Then he glows bright red. “Oh. _No_. Of course not.”

“So what do you need my services for, oh princely one?”

He rolls his eyes. Then he gets down to business.

“My half-brother and his boyfriend are crashing this party in less than five minutes and I need to stop them before they cause major damage because this is Chaddick’s night and he’s already got enough on his plate, and I need your help because you’re really good at holding judgment over offenders and shit.”

Fair enough. There’s just one thing she can’t help but wonder. “Which half-brother and which boyfriend?” 

(Please say Rhian and Kei, please say Rhian and Kei…)

Tedros responds to her by shoving his phone in her face. The artificial glow of the screen makes her recoil. She snatches it away from him and turns down the brightness, then switches back to the page Tedros left it on.

Instagram. A post from Japeth’s account, picturing Aric in the driver’s seat of a car. Probably a bad decision to let Aric operate any sort of vehicle if you ask Agatha. The caption reads, _felt cute, might wreck a house party later idk xx_.

“Shit. Not Rhian and Kei.” She bristles and hands the phone back to Tedros. “Still, that doesn’t mean they’re—”

Just then, there’s a blood-curdling ring that sounds like it’s coming from a microphone. The sound bounces off the wall, and both Agatha and Tedros slap their hands over their ears. The sound cuts off, replaced by a sleazy voice being amplified by the mic. Although they can’t hear what he’s saying, it’s very clear who this voice belongs to: Japeth Sader.

Agatha shoots out of the bedroom, Tedros close on her heels. She shoves by friends, classmates, dancers, and smokers (oh shit was that Hester?), darting toward the source of the noise. On the other side of the room, there’s a makeshift D.J. booth (a cardboard box with a Bluetooth speaker and microphone stand attached to it), where Japeth and Hort are grappling for the microphone. Hort’s got a pair of headphones looped around his neck. That explains the shitty music score. 

Japeth gets the upper hand by kneeing Hort in the groin. (Yeesh, how uncalled for.) He turns away, triumphant, and no doubt preparing for some sort of ridiculous villainous monologue, before he’s tackled from behind by Ravan—hey, where’d he come from?

Feedback from the microphone starts back up again and everyone simultaneously groans. Wincing, Agatha dives forward and snatches the mic before any of these idiots can get their paws on it. Tedros arrives just in time, helping Ravan off of Japeth before engaging in a hissy fit with his half-brother, something about heirs and worthiness and so forth; she doesn’t really care.

Ravan won’t spare so much as a glance in Agatha’s direction, informing Hort that he’s “going out front, feel free to come with” as he stomps off the platform. Hort turns to Agatha and gives her a cheeky grin.

“Thanks for saving us there.”

“It was nothing.” She eyes Tedros and Japeth, now in heated debate over which one of them Dad loves more. “I assume you’ll need this?” She starts to hand Hort the microphone, but he shakes his head and pushes it back towards her.

“Clearly you’re better suited for the role of D.J. than we are.”

“Okay, that’s true, but I don’t actually want to—” it’s pointless, though, because he’s already taken off after Ravan, shouting one last word of thanks over his shoulder.

“Hort, wait— _ugh_. Damn bitch.” She takes three long meditative breaths, then places the microphone back in its stand. She walks over to Tedros, who doesn’t react in the slightest when she snatches his iPhone out of his back pocket. She unlocks it easily (pass codes were one of the things they confessed to each other that time they got shitfaced, and “rhiancanttanevenly” is pretty easy to remember) and hooks it up to the speaker. She opens Spotify, starts shuffling Slipknot’s greatest hits, and leaves the phone on the table.

Now, time to kick Hort’s ass.

On her way outside, she bumps into Nicola, who looks thoroughly disheveled and is grinning from ear-to-ear, (“Oh, hey, Agatha,”), then Sophie not even a moment later, who’s sweating (!!!) and determined.

“Whoah, where are you going?” She places her hands on her shoulders and gives her sister a stern look. 

Sophie flashes a shit-eating grin. “After Nicola.”

“So I take it things worked out between you two?”

“Yeah, really well!” she exclaims. “I probably won’t be coming home tonight, by the way.”

“Ew.” Agatha makes a face and shoves her away. Sophie giggles. “Okay, okay, go get your girl.”

She watches Sophie take off down the hall and almost smiles. Almost. Because, sure, she’s happy for them, but that’s still her little sister. Ew.

Near the front door, she catches sight of Beatrix, Kiko, Chaddick, and Yara sprawled out on the sofa that’s been pushed against a wall. The two couples are cuddling on either end of the couch, and they’re all watching something off of someone’s phone, which is propped up on the footrest. Good for them. That’s one less person Agatha has to kill for hurting the feelings of dear, sweet Kiko.

Just as she steps out the door, she catches sight of Hort slipping into the passenger’s seat of Ravan’s car. Unfortunately, she isn’t able to turn her gaze away fast enough before Ravan pins Hort to the car seat and presses his lips to his neck. _Mega gross._

Never mind on that whole “kicking Hort’s ass” business. It can be put on hold while Agatha regains the courage to look Hort in the eye after this.

She faces the house. The heavy music she left playing can be heard despite the doors being shut. Suddenly, she feels exhausted, and the idea of stepping back in there is nauseating. She doesn’t want to think about how much she messed up with Hester. She takes a seat on the front steps and rests her face in her hands.

She wants to hate tonight. She really, really does. But there’s something hilarious about it all, and she just can’t be bothered to work up that kind of bitterness anymore. Maybe after a few decades of sleep, sure, but not right now.

“Hey, what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all by herself?”

Agatha raises her head to see Hester standing over her. She tries to muster up a smile, but something about the sight of her girlfriend sends a plunging feeling spiraling into the pit of her stomach.

Hester plops down next to her, and Agatha won’t meet her eyes.

They don’t talk for a moment. There’s a slight chill in the air and she shivers. She doesn’t ask for Hester’s jacket, and Hester doesn't offer. That’d be too premature.

“Music’s pretty good tonight,” Hester snarks softly, and Agatha can’t stifle a small laugh. Then, louder, Hester says, “Oh, gross, is that Ravan and _Hort_? Jesus, I thought Ravan was better than that. Gonna have to have a talk with him about poor choices in men.”

“Because you know _so_ much about men,” Agatha retorts.

Hester snorts, and some of the tension is gone. Not all of it, but enough that Agatha feels comfortable resting her head on Hester’s shoulder. 

She says, “Sorry for freaking about you and Beatrix. I don’t blame you; she’s hot. A total dick, but still hot.”

Hester nods. “Sorry for being so dodgy. It’s not you, baby, I just had this thing I had to do, and…” she trails off.

Agatha sits up and meets her eyes. “Do I hate it when you act all distant and shit? Oh yeah. Fuckin’ despise it. But I understand that I can’t always be the most important person in your life. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Hester wrinkles her nose, giving her an odd look. “No, it’s not—” She stops herself, then takes Agatha’s hands and stands, causing Agatha to stand with her.

Immediately, Hester falls back on one knee without breaking their gaze, using one hand to reach into the pocket of her leather jacket. She pulls out what looks like a few laminated slips of paper. 

“This is the reason I’ve been avoiding you all night. Beatrix told me she was calling Japeth and Aric for back up, and I’ve been trying to meet with them all week. ‘Course, they took their sweet time showing, and Ani and I got confused on the times. That’s the whole reason I’m here, by the way. I blackmailed Sophie into making sure you’d be here, too.”

She notices Agatha’s bewildered expression and flusters. That’s right, Hester gets _flustered_. Whatever’s in her hand must be a big deal. 

She presents the paper to Agatha like it’s a ring in a box, and Agatha leans forward to get a good look at them.

She blinks.

No, she read that correctly.

She blinks again.

Wait a minute.

Holy _shit._

She snatches the slips out of Hester’s hand and no way, no way, she _didn’t—_ she _couldn’t have—_

“Hester, oh my fuck—are these M.C.R. tickets?”

A grin shatters Hester’s features. “Yup, bought ‘em off of Aric for a hundred a pop.”

(Carefully, gently) Agatha places the two tickets into her jean pocket, then grabs Hester by both hands and pulls her up. She grabs Hester by the hair and kisses her like she might never kiss her again, because Agatha very well may die and ascend the second she lets go of her. They kiss for as long as they can manage without air, arms holding each other tight. Only when her lungs scream in protest does she rock back on her heels. 

She’s grinning so hard it hurts her cheeks, she’s completely winded because Hester kisses like the devil, but it’s undeniable: Agatha has the best. girlfriend. _ever_.

Hester stands on her toes to place a kiss on Agatha’s forehead, and after a few more seconds of closeness, she pulls apart just enough to say, “My bank account’s in ruins now, but hey, it’s worth it to see you smile like that.”

Agatha allows those words to sink in. 

People don’t talk about Agatha that way. She’s not the fair-faced heroine of a romance novel and she knows it. And it’s not like Hester goes around casually making remarks like that, because she’s hostile and feisty, a raging storm in a sea of cotton candy clouds. So when Hester says things like this to Agatha, she listens. 

“I love you,” Agatha mumbles very quietly against Hester’s lips. 

And she means it.


End file.
